


Ramza Learns A Lesson

by stepOnMeZenos



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Fantasy Racism, Gen, Return to Ivalice (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 21:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17989259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: The Warrior of Light is rather unwilling to put up with Ramza's attitude any longer.





	Ramza Learns A Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't like Ramza.

“What? You haven't been to Ridorana? And here I thought you had _something_ to contribute...“ Ramza's voice dripped with derision, as it was wont to. What a disgusting little creature. 

“You,“ Khuradakha said to Ramza, “are starting to make me angry.“ 

Ramza looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and pursed lips and shrugged. “I fail to see why I should care about you having such poor control over your emotions.“ 

The Bangaa ceased talking to each other and turned towards Khuradakha and Ramza to watch. Alma opened her mouth and immediately closed it again. Jenomis stepped towards his son. Lina took notes.

Khuradakha ignored them all and crossed his arms. “You're saying this because you want to be a git, but you're absolutely correct! I have poor control over my emotions. I lash out when I'm angry or frustrated—you should have asked Cid about it while he was here, he knows exactly what I'm talking about. What can I say? I'm a Dotharl through and through: volatile, aggressive, violent.“ 

“And you're telling me this because—“

“Because this is what happens when people make me angry,“ Khuradakha said, and lifted Ramza up by his collar. 

All at once, several people began shouting at him. Ramza, which would have been obvious by the spittle flying from his mouth; Jenomis, who seemed to have objections to his son being treated like that; and did he hear Alma timidly raising her voice in the background? Why she would bother speaking up on her brother's behalf Khuradakha didn't quite understand. Maybe she was simply that good of a person… not that Ramza deserved it.

Curiously, the rest of the theater stuff stayed silent. Apparently they were fed up with Ramza's attitude as well. That, or they were smart enough to stay out of the Warrior of Light's way. Having that title had its perks sometimes. 

“Quiet, everyone, I'm not going to hurt him.“ _Yet._ “That being said, can any of you deny that he needs to learn some manners? All this time, he's done nothing but spew insults and taunts to people who did nothing to deserve it. Go on, speak up if you think I'm wrong.“ 

“That's my son you're talking about. Stop this at once!“ Jenomis grabbed his shoulder, but Khuradakha easily pried him loose with his spare hand. A playwright was no match for his battle-hardened body. “I concede that he hasn't been on his best behaviour, but I won't allow you to mistreat him!“

“And what are you going to do about the fact that your son constantly disrespects the one who's risked life and limb to help your family?“ Khuradakha asked. “I've half a mind to leave you to solve your problems yourself if that is to be my reward, and what would you do then?“

(It was a question he occasionally asked himself. What _did_ all the people he had to say no to do? Did they do what was needed themselves, or did they simply wait for someone else to come by?)

“You would leave over such petty impulses?“ Ramza's voice sounded strained. “What kind of man are you if you would even consider that?“

“A busy one. I hardly think not insulting me at every turn is too steep a price to pay for my help. Do you disagree?“

“No, but—“ 

“Perfect,“ Khuradakha said. “Since we are in agreement, here are my terms. One: You stop lobbing insults at me, and your sister for that matter, she hasn't done anything to deserve it. Two: You stop acting like being half Garlean elevates you over the rest of us. You know the real Garleans don't accept you as one of their own just as well as I do, so drop the “filthy savage“ act. Three: You apologise for your past behaviour. Yes, even to the 'lizards'. Are we clear?“

“Yes! We're clear! We're clear! Now put me down!“

It didn't sound very convincing. Then again, few people managed to avoid panicking while being accosted by the Warrior of Light. Khuradakha obliged and let go, causing Ramza to drop to the floor with a _thump_. Jenomis knelt down next to him, but backed away quickly when he saw his son wasn't hurt.

By now, all activity in the room had come to a standstill. Ramza pulled himself to his feet as everyone looked on and slowly turned towards the Bangaa. “I… apologise for calling you lizards. And—and I'm sorry to you too, Alma. I was… I misbehaved.“ 

“And…?“ Khuradakha asked.

The look Ramza gave him was withering, or would be if he was any kind of intimidating. “I apologise for not treating you with the respect you are owed, Warrior of Light.“ 

“A little bit stilted, but I suppose that's an occupational risk.“ And he had nothing on Zenos anyroad; in a different life, that man could have become an actor to end all actors. Khuradakha turned around and headed towards the shuttle hangar.

“Aren't you going to stay and listen to the rest of their story?“ Lina asked. 

She sounded pleased. That was never a good sign from a reporter. Khuradakha braced himself to find what had happened in the papers, possibly in the least flattering manner imaginable. “Just tell me where to go and what to kill and I'll be there. I don't need to know specifics. You'll find me in Kugane once you figured it out. I've been asked to help with the small matter of Kugane Castle being occupied by bandits.“ 

The door slid shut behind him before anyone could reply.

 

 

The air out here, over the ocean, was refreshing. Spending time in Vylbrand had made Khuradakha appreciate the sea breeze. Up here on the airship, it blew unimpeded, and he had made it a habit to come out here on the balcony (or whatever the theatre folks called it, it was sure to have some kind of fancy name) to enjoy it, especially on such a pleasant day. The sky was ceruleum blue today, and the sun warmed his skin as he leaned on the railing. 

It also served to let him get away from Ramza, who seemed to be trying not to be insufferable by not being openly hostile, but who was instead only insufferable in a more tolerable way. There had been no further insults, but his sullen silence and pouting made it clear how deeply unhappy he was to have been compelled not to be as much of a brat any longer. It was an improvement, however, so Khuradakha had not intervened again. 

“What are you doing out here? You should be preparing to come with us to the lighthouse, not idly sunbathing.“

Speak of the devil…

Khuradakha turned around and raised an eyebrow at Ramza, who had his characteristic sour look on his face: Eyebrows pinched together, the corners of his mouth pulled down and his nose turned up more than what should be possible, considering how short he was.

“Did you hear me? I said—“

“I heard you loud and clear,“ Khuradakha said. “For your information, I'm well prepared. You may, upon closer examination, notice I happen to be wearing armor and carrying my weapon.“ Upon even _closer_ examination, one might find that he rarely took the armor off, even, but since he fortunately did not have to spend much time with Ramza, that seemed to be too much to ask for. 

“Then what are you still doing out here?“ Ramza crossed his arms and stared up at him. “You should be waiting with us down by the shuttle. We're due to arrive soon. Stop wasting time.“ 

“You're not even the one with an added incentive to get there quickly,“ Khuradakha said. The Bangaa were the ones whose leader had gone… missing. Or something. He hadn't quite understood the explanation. Either way, Ramza's family was safe. _He_ had no reason to be impatient, and Khuradakha did not believe for a second that he had suddenly found it in himself to be concerned about the Bangaa. 

Ramza huffed. “Have you already _forgotten_ that my family name rides on this venture?“ 

“Oh, your family name. Of course. Very important and time-sensitive.“ 

“Do you even know,“ Ramza asked with contempt in his voice, “what it's like when your name is dragged through the mud? Ridiculed? Spoken with scorn?“ Step by step, he paced across the balcony. “You barge into my home, pretending to know what we went through—“

“Ah, I see. You've never spoken to a Xaela about us Dotharl, then.“ Khuradakha nodded. “Which is somewhat understandable, since most of us never leave the steppe, but you may try learning about what you're trying to talk about before you open your mouth next time.“

“And why,“ Ramza asked, “would I bother learning about an undisciplined horde of scalekin?“ 

To his credit, he seemed to realise what he had just done even before Khuradakha sighed and reached out for his collar once more. 

“I didn't meant to—“

“Yes you did, don't bother denying it.“ Khuradakha lifted him up, ignoring his squirming, then reached out with his other hand and took ahold of his ankle. 

“Hold on, what are youWAAAAA!“

“I take it you don't much enjoy dangling from an airship flying uncountable yalms over an ocean, held up only by my tenuous grasp on your leg,“ Khuradakha said. Below them, the waves churned. Seagulls, at this distance white dots on blue, circled over the water. Ramza had ceased his struggling and scrabbled for something to hold on to on the ship's hull, without much success.

“Pull me up! Pull me back up!“ He was almost squeaking from panic. Cute. 

Khuradakha tilted his head. “No, I don't think I'm going to do that just yet. We've been over this Ramza, have we not? No more insults lobbed at people who don't deserve them. Especially not insults coming from your ridiculous sense of superiority based on the fact that your father happens to have a third eye, which you are missing. You did hear what I said at the time, right?“ 

“Yes! I heard you I heard you I heard you!“ Ramza's eyes were wide open. Were there tears glistening on his lashes? It was hard to tell at the distance. 

“Excellent!“ Khuradakha leaned over the railing and raised his voice. “Why is it, then, that you don't seem to have learned from it, and instead did the very thing I asked you not to do? Hm, Ramza?“

“I'm sorry I wasn't thinking I'm sorry please don't drop me—“

“What was that? I didn't quite hear you.“ 

“I'M SORRY! I WON'T DO IT EVER AGAIN!“

“But how can I believe you?“ Khuradakha tapped his lip. “You said the same thing last time. How can I be sure you're not lying again?“ 

“I promise I promise I promiiiiiise...“

The fear in his voice sounded genuine, as far as Khuradakha could tell. The panicked facial expression didn't seem faked either. Mayhap he had learned his lesson this time—and if not, there was always the option of repeating this scene and pretending to have his hand slip a little. For now, however, he effortlessly pulled a snivelling Ramza up and unceremoniously dumped him on the balcony. He crumpled as if all his bones had vanished in an instant.

“I'll give you a second chance.“ Khuradakha nudged the quivering bundle with his foot. “Show me you meant it, and we won't have to do this again. Show me you lied, well… you know by now you won't like what will happen. Are we clear? Good. You'll find me by the shuttle if you need me.“

 

 

When Ramza joined the rest of the group again, several members of the expedition quietly marvelled over how much his disposition had improved, for no apparent reason. None of them felt like looking a gift chocobo in the beak, however, and so what had happened remained a mystery forever.


End file.
